When You Wake Up and Your Brother is the King
by WakaLakaAlchemist
Summary: Lovino Vargas wakes in the apartment of two Germans, both of which he wants to stab with a fork. It's a strange, unfamiliar world in West Virginia, and he needs to find his way home to Italy. First, of course, he must get permission from the king. AU
1. Chapter 1

**One of Those Weird Times When You Wake Up and Your Brother Is the King and It Really Sucks for You**

Part I

When Lovino Vargas found himself in an unfamiliar bed and an unfamiliar room the next morning, his first thought to himself was "How smashed did I get last night?" followed by "Wait, I don't drink." He blinked a few times, making sure he was really awake. Sunlight barely shone through a black-curtained window and he couldn't really see much. A digital clock next to the bed told him it was 7 AM. He wondered if someone was here and if he should try to escape when a strange smell wafted into his nostrils. Curiosity overcame Lovino, and he stepped out of bed and cracked open the door. Looking down, he confirmed that he was indeed wearing clothes. Well, boxers.

Following the smell to what he presumed was a kitchen, he was surprised to see a man in a suit frying some sort of meat. He was even more surprised to see that when the man turned around, he wasn't really a man—in fact, he seemed about Lovino's age.

"You're up," he grunted. Lovino stared at him suspiciously.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"It would be more appropriate for me to know who you are first, seeing as you were sleeping in my apartment when I walked in," the blond said, his blue eyes staring daggers at him.

"I'm Lovino Vargas, and I didn't break into your apartment! I just woke up here and…I don't know!"

"Is that so? You're lucky I didn't call the police on you. My name is Ludwig Weillschmidt," he said, turning back to the meat. Nothing was said for a moment, but suddenly Ludwig turned around and stared at him incredulously. "Did you say your name was Vargas?"

Just then, the door slammed open. An albino man stumbled into the living room, which was connected to the kitchen, and collapsed on to the couch with a slurred "Oi, West."

Lovino ignored the fact that a drunk had just walked in and asked, "West? I thought you said your name was Ludwig." He didn't think he liked this Ludwig or West or whoever the hell he was, a teenager wearing a suit was just weird, not to mention he was at least a head taller than Lovino. Not that he was ashamed of his own height. This guy was just irregularly tall, that's all.

"It is. That's my older brother Gilbert, he calls me West because I was born in western Germany, while he was born in the east," he answered. Then, shaking his head as if that was irrelevant, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Gilbert, you _dummkopf_, you made me forget what I was going to say. Why are you home so late? Don't tell me you were with those sorry excuses for friends again," he scolded.

_Okay, this guy seriously has a stick shoved way up his arse,_ Lovino thought, glaring. Yes, he definitely hated guys like that. Now that he thought about it, the apartment was free of any dust or loose articles. Magazines and various papers were stacked neatly on the coffee table, the floor was spotless, shelves of books and CDs were _alphabetized_, and although there was a German shepherd sitting quietly on a blanket in a corner of the kitchen, there was no fur. Aren't German shepherds supposed to shed like no other?

The albino was completely unresponsive, so Lovino turned back to Ludwig. "Where am I, first of all?"

"You're in Hetaliand," Ludwig said. "Are you from around here?"

"Hetaliand? Where the hell is that?" Lovino gaped. He'd never heard of the place.

"Southern West Virginia, near Axia."

"West Vir…_What?_" Oh _merda_.

"Are you from a different state?" Ludwig asked, concerned.

"I'm from Italy!"

"_Italy?_" Ludwig stared at him thoughtfully. "For an Italian, you certainly have a flawless American accent."

"What? I don't—" Lovino covered his mouth in surprise. He spoke English, but whether speaking British or American English, his accent was horrid. "_Sono italiano! Prometto!_" At least he could still speak Italian. Perhaps he had somehow obtained some intense American English skills in his sleep.

Obviously Ludwig didn't know the language. "Um, right. Well, if you are Italian, how on earth did you get here?"

"How am I supposed to know? I have to get home! Where's the nearest airport?" Lovino panicked.

"You can't just leave. You must get permission from the king."

Now this was getting ridiculous. "Since when does America have a king? That can't be possible; my twin brother is always gushing about how handsome President Obama is—"

"OHMIGAWDWEST!" Gilbert shouted , jolting from his position on the couch and causing Lovino to lose about five years of his life. "What's the king doing in our apartment?! And like, why is he naked…?"

"What's that stupid kraut talking about? Is he still drunk?" Lovino said airily, jerking his thumb in Gilbert's general direction.

Ludwig ignored him. "That's why he seemed so familiar…Vargas, a twin, and he looks exactly like the king. That's it! Lovino must be the king's missing twin brother!" he said, pounding his fist into his palm.

"Okay, now I _know_ you're shitting me. My brother? A _king_? That air-head can't think for himself, let alone a whole nation. He set you up to this, didn't he? He sure makes weird friends. Yeah, Feliciano always liked strange people like you…Hey, what are you making anyways?"

"Wurst."

The Italian screwed up his face in disgust. "Ew. It's burning, by the way."

"_Scheisse!_" Ludwig spun around to tend to his burnt sausage, while Gilbert continued to simply stare at Lovino.

He noticed the East German's gaze and spat, "What the hell are you looking at?"

Instead of looking mortified as Lovino expected, Gilbert merely grinned as if he had just won the lottery. "Oi, West! He looks just like King Feliciano! Can we keep him? No one will know, he's been missing since birth, after all!"

Lovino gaped at him; there was no way he was staying here. Luckily, Ludwig had the same opinion on the matter.

"Don't even think about it. If we get caught, that's an automatic death sentence. Lovino has apparently been living in Italy this entire time, and if he's happy there, he should go back," he said, poking at the bratwurst with a fork. "By the way, you fell asleep in Gilbert's room. You didn't see anything…strange, did you?"

"No. The curtains didn't let any light in." Suddenly interested, Lovino asked, "What do you mean by weird?"

Gilbert sat up and, with the speed of a Chihuahua on crack, he dashed towards his room shouting "NOTHING DON'T COME IN HERE I'LL BE RIGHT BACK YOU JUST SIT YOUR PRETTY LITTLE ROYAL SELF RIGHT THERE LOVI!"

"Don't call me that!" Lovino said, flushing. He followed the older brother anyway, smiling wickedly. "What're you trying to hide, stuffed animals or dirty magazines or something?"

Standing in the doorway of the now-lit bedroom, his eyes opened wide with horror. He was accosted by a face full of Feliciano, and not enjoying one bit of it. Posters of his younger twin smiling and laughing, magazines flourishing him on their front covers, and was that a life-size cardboard replica? Anger bubbled within Lovino, and his stomach tied into a knot. His face looked as red as…something really red, maybe some sort of fruit.

Prussia stood up awkwardly after attempting to shove something under his bed and smiled. "H-hey there, this isn't what it looks like; it's for a project and um…"

"Are you quite finished?" Lovino said, tapping his foot and folding his arms.

"Yeah…"

"YOU FREAK, WHY IS FELICIANO ALL OVER YOUR ROOM?!" he crossed the space between him and Gilbert in no time, fists flying. Ludwig came to his brother's rescue and held back the angry Italian's arms, giving Gilbert an exhausted look.

"My brother has an odd obsession with yours," he apologized.

"Let me go! _Tu puttana_, I'll kill you!"

"Calm down now, we should find a way to make an appointment with one of the king's advisors," Ludwig suggested.

"Look," Lovino said, gnashing his teeth. "One: I don't trust you guys. How do I know you didn't kidnap me? Two: There's no way my brother could be a king, and you'd better let me go before I call the cops. Three: I'm not dumb enough to believe that the United States is a monarchy. Three: Your brother is a whore."

"You said three twice."

"Shut up Gilbert."

"W-who cares? My point is, I'm not going to sit here and listen to your crap! I'm leaving!" With that, Lovino stormed out of the room, and the Weillschmidt brothers heard the living room closet door close. Then came a stream of incomprehensible Italian, a door opening, and finally the front door slammed shut.

They stared at each other for a minute before Gilbert finally said, "Should we go after him?" Ludwig nodded, the boy obviously didn't know his way around, and they ran out the door to find him. They headed down the apartment building stairs, until Gilbert tripped on the last set.

"Ow! What the…Oh, it's Lovino! Look, West, I found him! I'm so awesome," Gilbert grinned triumphantly.

His smile faded when he saw that Lovino was crying uncontrollably.

Neither of the brothers knew how to handle this situation. They had grown up in this apartment together, with no parents or anyone else, and learned to deal with their problems on their own. They didn't show any sadness towards each other, they knew that compassion wasn't in their blood. So there they stood over the sobbing brunet, glancing around uncomfortably. Finally, Gilbert sat down next to him.

"Um…hey, Lovi, what's wrong?" he said, testing the waters. Being older and more experienced, Gilbert knew a little more about emotions than Ludwig.

"I…I…I want to g-go home," Lovino stuttered. Gilbert sighed.

"Don't worry, little guy, we'll get you home in no time. We'll find your brother, and if we have to steal a plane, then so be it," he said, rubbing circles on Lovino's back. Ludwig frowned at this display of affection. He'd never seen his brother do or say these things for anyone, and he'd never admit it, but he was a little jealous.

"Yes. We'd better get going. But first, are you hungry? We should stop somewhere and get some food," Ludwig said.


	2. Chapter 2

**One of Those Weird Times When You Wake Up and Your Brother Is the King and It Really Sucks for You**

Chapter 2

**Characters: **Lovino (Romano/S. Italy), Ludwig (Germany), Gilbert (Prussia), Francis (France)

**Genre: **Comedy/Family/Romance

**Rating: **T+

**Warnings: **Language and France

**Continuation: **Yes

**Pairings: **One-sided GilboxLovi (played for humor), more pairings in future chapters

"You need a disguise."

"Awesome idea, West! Do we have any dresses?"

Lovino promptly smacked Gilbert upside the head. "A disguise? Why would I need a disguise?"

"We can't have people thinking we kidnapped the king's twin brother…Or worse, the king himself. I don't think you'll fit into any of my clothes, so we should see if Gilbert has something small enough for you," Ludwig said, walking his tall self over to Gilbert's room. He ignored the clothes and other mysterious articles on the floor and headed towards the dressers. Open, rummage, close; open, rummage, close; open, rummage—

"Gilbert! What the heck is this?" Ludwig said, his face reddening.

"What is this, you ask? Why, it's…er…Just don't let Lovi see it," Gilbert replied, grinning.

Glaring, Lovino said, "If it has something to do with my brother, I swear to God…"

"ANNNYWAY, there should be something that fits you in the closet. Good thing you're wearing underwear already! I don't think mine would fit you."

"I wouldn't _want_ to wear your nasty underwear, you freak," Lovino hissed through clenched teeth.

"Yeah whatever. Let's see, here's a hoodie I've had since high school…" Gilbert pulled a sweater out of his closet, smiling in nostalgia. "Ahh, I can still smell the pizza sauce and beer," he said, taking a dramatic whiff of the fabric.

"Oh _hell _no. That's disgusting! Please tell me you have something else," Lovino gagged.

"Come on, Lovi! It's clean, I think," Gilbert answered sheepishly. Ludwig nodded slowly, and the look in his eyes saying it was this or nothing. Contempt hung in a heavy cloud over his head as Lovino pulled on the burgundy hoodie, and he held it out by the hem out in front of him to read the words.

"'Sherman High School'? How lame." The Weillschmidt brothers had long since noticed that Lovino was fond of complaining. Suddenly remembering the word "decency," he yanked the hoodie back down and stretched it mid-thigh. "W-well?" he stuttered, turning pink and looking down at his feet, "What are you waiting for? Get me some pants or something!"

The reaction this received from Gilbert would make Freud blush.

Once they finished wiping the blood off the floor (with a lovely browning stain to preserve the memory), Ludwig found Lovino a pair of pants and a belt. The Italian had shed his decency for the sake of beating down Gilbert like a piñata, who was forced to go recuperate with the German shepherd, Berlin*.

*OHOHO I'm so clever

"Gilbert. Can you behave yourself for once?" Ludwig said as they waited in the kitchen for Lovino to change. He leaned against the countertop, arms folded, eyes narrowed.

"Ludwig. Can you stop being such a buzzkill?" Gilbert retorted. Rolling over from his position on the floor to face his brother, he stuck out his tongue. "Come on, West! He _obviously_ thinks I'm hot. Did you see how red he was in my presence? He was embarrassed and made up for it in physical contact!"

"By beating you shitless."

Gilbert rubbed Berlin's head roughly and rolled his eyes. "Pshh! Please, I _let _him. If I defended myself, I'd end up hurting him, and I couldn't do that. He's like a girl, like the king. Haha…so cute…"

Ludwig ignored the obscene faces the East German was making and reached into a cabinet over his head to retrieve Berlin's dog food.

"Your nose is bleeding again, asshat," Lovino growled, walking into the room. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing of importance" "Just about how awesome I am!" the Germans replied simultaneously. It's probably not difficult to figure out who said what.

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Can we go now?"

They ignored Gilbert's "But I'm hungry!" and walked out the door. Realizing no one was going to listen to his complaints, he decided to take a different approach.

As they reached the exit of the apartment building, Gilbert stepped in front of Lovino and blocked his path each time he tried to sidestep him.

"Damn it, what is it _now_?" he groaned exasperatedly.

"The poor little prince looks so frail! Would you like me to carry you, Lovi?" Gilbert suggested, a wicked grin plastered on his face.

Lovino politely declined by shoving a fork down his throat.

After retrieving the bloodied fork from Lovino's grasp, Ludwig tilted his head in confusion. "When did you take my fork?"

"_That's_ what you're asking him? Bitch tried to kill me and you're asking him when he took your fork! What kind of brother _are _you?!" Gilbert shouted, clutching his throat and gagging.

Once again, Oresama was ignored.

"For protection. You think I'm going to trust that asshole after the way he looked at me?! I was right to bring it too!" Lovino explained, taking long strides ahead of the brothers. "Would you hurry up? I'd like to get out of this hellish nightmare as soon as possible."

Seemingly recovered, Gilbert skipped a bit to catch up with the Italian. "Oh, come on! It's not that bad. You weren't arrested or tortured or decapitated or—"

"SHUT UP!"

Gilbert halted and recoiled in surprise. Lovino was crying again, but softly. He rubbed his eyes furiously.

"I-I should…decapitate_ you_…s-stupid…ugh…" he stuttered, his shoulders shaking.

Sighing, Gilbert put a comforting arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer. Lovino pushed back but eventually gave in, leaning into him and hiccupping every few seconds. Germany stood by feeling rather left out and cleared his throat loudly.

Lovino jumped and shoved Gilbert away, mumbling swears under his breath and walking ahead quickly. Gilbert only laughed.

"West, you ruined the moment! We were really getting somewhere, you just don't understand r—"

"Someone is following us," Ludwig said, pushing his older brother forward.

"What? You're paranoid." Gilbert began to look over his shoulder, but Ludwig elbowed him in the side. "Ach! God, stupid little—"

"_Salut_, Gilbert! _Ça va?_"

The trio turned around in unison to find the source of Ludwig's paranoia. A baby blue Prius was pulled over a few feet behind them, and in its driver's seat was a wavy-haired Frenchman with a badly needed shave.

"Dude I have no idea what the fuck you just said but check it out! The king's one and only twin brother, Lovi!" Gilbert flashed a toothy smile at his friend, gesturing to the Italian to his left as a kid would do with a shiny new bike.

Instead of pointing out that one could only have a single twin, Ludwig shouted, "You idiot! Only a few minutes and you already have our cover blown. And you've revealed it to one of your drinking buddies, of all people!"

"Hey now, Ludwig, I am not but a drinking buddy. I am a good friend _de ton frère_, and I am quite marvelous with keeping secrets, if I do say so myself. If you're the kidnappers, your secret is safe with me. But I cannot believe you've been keeping this cute one from me the whole time!" he said, winking at Lovino. Lovino folded his arms and stuck his tongue out.

"We're not the kidnappers, man. Never seen him in my life before today. We found him in my bed this morning!" Gilbert explained.

The Frenchman immediately cut the engine, raced out of the car, and nearly tackled the elder Weillschmidt.

"You actually got laid this time? _Magnifique!_ This calls for celebration!"

Ludwig buried his face in his hands. _God, send a bolt of lightning to strike me down now; send me salvation... _A second thought made him grab Lovino's hood quickly to avoid a bloodbath. Lovino's head turned slowly towards Ludwig like some cheesy horror film. If looks could kill…

"Naw, Francis, I was out with you guys last night, remember?" Gilbert said, waving him off.

Francis scratched his chin thoughtfully and nodded as if suddenly remembering. "Then why was he in your bed?" he asked.

"Who knows?" Gilbert looked over at the younger German. "What happened anyway, West?"

"I got home after grocery shopping—"

"Pansy."

"Would you prefer to do so yourself, Gilbert?"

"Fuck you."

"That's what I thought."

"Would you like to continue, _mon ami?_" Francis said, sounding impatient.

"Ah, sorry. Anyway, it was late, and I was wondering where you were—"

"Gettin' hit on by the waitress!"

"More like getting decapitated with a frying pan by the waitress…" Francis interjected.

"_Mein Gott_, are you all against me?!"

"I sure as hell am. Stop interrupting, I want to know how I got here!" Lovino hissed in annoyance.

"_Thank _you," Ludwig said. "As I was saying, I came into your room wondering if you'd crashed and found Lovino sleeping in your bed. I thought about calling the police or forcing him out, but he didn't look like he could do much harm. That, and…he...ah…never mind," he trailed off, avoiding everyone's gaze. There was no way he could tell them Lovino had reminded him of an adorable dog he once had. Lovino might also have taken that as an insult, and the results could be disastrous.

"That's it? I was just _there_? Jeez! You're no help at all!" Lovino said.

Francis placed a hand on Lovino's shoulder, much to his dismay, and said, "Oh, _mon chouchou_, you must not be so stingy! Any piece of information is valuable. So you are the king's twin brother, correct?" Lovino nodded, contemplating whether to rip the Frenchman's arm off. "May I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Where have you been all this time?"

Lovino cast his gaze downwards explained his situation to Francis, who nodded and followed along without hindrance.

"Italy, hmm? Quite a lovely country. Lovely women too…" he said, looking off into the distance. Lovino chose to ignore that last statement. He was getting good at ignoring people today.

"Anyhow, you already know, but I feel formal introductions are necessary. My name is Francis; it's very nice to meet you, Lovino," Francis continued, holding out a hand. Lovino shook it roughly, mumbling a greeting and avoiding his gaze. "So you need a way to get to the capital, _oui_? Why don't you hitch a ride with me?"

Gilbert glanced at the proud Frenchman's car warily. "I wouldn't be caught dead in that fruitcake. I still don't get why you bought it."

Taking a deep, extended breath and letting a long silence overtake the four men, he said, "To attract women."

"Wait, didn't you pick up your coworker's bro?" Gilbert asked.

Francis scoffed. "_Pick up_ is such an objective term. I'm very much interesting in an actual relationship with my dear _Mathieu_. The car worked, no? Just not in the way I expected. Now do you all want a ride or not?"

Lovino gazed at the car and sighed. At least it wasn't some huge white van with _Ride me~!_ painted on the side. Then he looked at the license plate.

_FREE CNDY_

God damn it.

**This actually wasn't going to be the end of this chapter. There's too much babbling and Prussia flirting with Romano…I don't know why I did that. Because Romano's fun to pick on and Prussia hits on anyone who's cute, maybe? I wasn't going to have much happen in it anyway. Next chapter will be much more eventful and interesting. **

Translations:

_Salut – _Hi

_Ça va – _What's up? How are you (informal)?

_de ton frère _– of your brother

_Magnifique_ – Magnificent (durrhurr)

_mon ami _– my friend (again, durrhurr)

_Mein Gott_ – my God

_mon chouchou_ – my pet, my darling (because if I just used _chou_ it would mean cabbage, which is also a term of endearment)


End file.
